Waiting
by fey of the forest
Summary: Oneshot. Set during episode 1, series 1. A young Robin waits for his father at the mill


**Hey**

**This is my first Robin of Sherwood fanfic, so please forgive me if there are any errors or if the characters seem a little OOC.**

**Also, it is only a one shot set somewhere between Loxley's destruction and Robin becoming an outlaw.**

**Hope you enjoy and please r&r**

**Fey of the Forest**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of Robin of Sherwood, unfortunately**

"_Father, Father! Soldiers! Soldiers!"_

They came silently down the river on rafts of wood. Their helmets glinted in the sunlight, and their horses brayed as they came towards the riverbank. The young Robin watched them come, and he knew that that the soldiers could only mean danger for the village. He had to warn his father and his friends. He had to warn all of those in his village. They had to get away from them. People would die otherwise. He ran, and shouted, as the men at arms on horseback rode from the riverbank, entering the village where Robin had been stood just minutes before. Running to his home, Robin found his father snoozing, but that was no good. They had to get away from the soldiers. The boy shook his father's shoulders to wake him and his father was soon seeing what was going on. The smell of burning thatch filled the air as Robin's father told him to stay indoors. The boy could only watch from the window as the soldiers with their blue surcoats and shields cut down unarmed men and women. The fire was spreading quickly, and it wouldn't be too long before the whole village was razed to the ground.

His father returned then, his bow and quiver slung over his soldiers. They were going to escape, which was more than some of the villagers could. Before he even began to move, Robin was in his father's arms, being carried away from the cottage that he had been born and raised in. Women's screams rang out as the soldiers continued to cut down anyone in their path. He would always remember that sound. Mounting up as the men were distracted, they were soon riding away from the village of Loxley. Robin hadn't realised that that would be the last he'd see of his birthplace as he held onto his father as tightly as possible. He hadn't realised that that would be the last he would ever see of his home.

It didn't take long for them to reach the mill, and Robin was glad to see the familiar place. He knew the miller and his wife, and his son. They were good friends of his father's. They would be safe here. As Robin was handed down to Matthew the miller, he had expected his father to do the same, but his father turned around and rode away. He hadn't realised that he wouldn't see his father again at that point. All he knew was that he would be back by nightfall to pick him up. With a storm brewing in the air, Robin watched his father ride away before allowing himself to be taken inside. It wasn't long after that when the heavens opened and the rain came pouring down.

Settling down by the window, the young Robin could only watch the world go by, hoping that his father would return soon. He was certain that he wouldn't be staying here at the mill long, but there he was wrong. Hearing the claps of thunder and seeing the lightning in the sky, the young boy had a feeling of dread, but he refused to give in to it. His father would be there. He would come back for him. He always did. The rain still poured, as if in mourning, but Robin would not believe that his father was dead. He clung on to what little hope he had left and refused to be moved from the window as he kept watch for his only parent.

It was morning when they heard the news. Robin had been keeping watch all night, not closing his eyes for one moment for fear that he would miss his father's arrival. He was tired, but he refused to sleep, and he hadn't allowed himself to be moved, regardless of how much the miller and his wife tried to. He hadn't moved to eat, or drink. Instead he had stayed sat by the window, even when the sun came up and the miller had gone to see how Loxley fared. When he returned however, with a solemn face, Robin knew.

His father was never coming for him, and it wasn't because he had abandoned him to save his own skin or even because he was in jail. It was because his father was dead. Tears welled in his eyes as he spotted the few peasants with their cart. Knowing their cargo, he ran out to see if it was true, unable to believe the miller's news. Though the men tried to stop him, Robin was adamant that he saw his father, and sure enough, it was true. His father was dead. He had been shot with so many arrows that there would have been no chance of survival, but his quiver was missing. Robin knew then that something precious had been stolen. His father had always been very protective of his quiver of arrows, and the young Robin didn't know why. However, it upset him so to discover that not only had his father been murdered but robbed too. Who would do such a thing? But of course, it would have been the soldiers.

His heart burned then with a passion. He would avenge his father's death, even if it killed him. These Normans had not only burned down his village, but killed his only parent. They had taken everything away from him and he was determined that they would one day share his pain. They would know exactly how he had suffered. And Robin would not rest until the men responsible for the destruction of Loxley had been brought to justice.

They buried his father that afternoon in the forest. As he was a wanted man he couldn't be afforded the proper funeral that he deserved, and so he was left with a poor man's grave. It only served to add to Robin's hatred of these soldiers who thought that they were better than everyone else. But with Ailric's death, not only had Robin lost a father but Nottinghamshire had lost its fight. His father had been the leader of the rebels and now, with him gone, they no longer had the wish to stand up against their oppressors. Robin was too young, otherwise he would have led them, but he could still prepare.

He'd been given his father's bow before they buried him, and though it was too big for the boy, he was determined to become the finest archer that England had ever known. For days after his father's death he would practise trying to shoot but he could hardly get an arrow to fly a few yards, let alone kill a soldier. The miller tried to comfort him, but Robin would not be consoled. All he wanted was to avenge his father's death, and make the soldiers rue the day that they had ever set foot in Loxley.

He was adopted by the miller and his wife, but though they were lovely, they could never replace his father. Not a day passed by where he didn't miss him, and though he helped with running the mill, Robin would often be caught practising with his bow and arrow. His aim was improving, and soon he would be as good as his father had been. Much, the miller's son, would often watch as Robin improved his skill with the bow, and when he was old enough, Robin began to teach him.

Ten years after his father's death, Robin woke to find his adopted brother gone, and so was his bow. Cursing Much's foolishness, Robin hurriedly got ready, knowing exactly where the young man would have gone. Things hadn't improved since his father's death. In fact, the county was suffering even more what with the taxes being raised and there being a shortage of food. The new laws also meant that they couldn't collect food from the forest, which is what they would have done originally. To poach would certainly mean the loss of a hand, and to kill a deer meant your life. It wasn't fair, Robin knew, as so many people were starving whilst the King kept his forests filled for hunting. However, the shortage of food meant that many were risking the punishments in order to feed their starving families, and Robin had an idea that that was what Much was up to.

Running out into the forest, the young man tried to find Much before the foresters did. Following the fresh tracks left in the mud, his heart sank when he heard the sound of hooves and spotted the deer. Then, there in the centre of a small clearing was a magnificent stag. Before Robin could stop it, Much had shot the beast, and the stag was dead. There was nothing that could be done, and so, unable to see it go to waste, Robin picked up the carcass of the beast, intent on taking it back to the mill. Hoping not to get caught, they hurried through the forest, avoiding the main paths, and they were getting quite close when they heard hoof beats. Seeing the soldiers, Robin and Much ran as quickly as they could, but it was no use. Caught, Robin's hatred of these men filled him and so, as he was thrown in the dungeon at Nottingham Castle, he knew that he would not be alone in wanting to fight back.

And so, with his group of men, Robin the outlaw began his crusade against the Normans, determined to make the Sheriff's life a misery and with only one thing in mind- avenging his father.


End file.
